Truth
by allikka
Summary: Truth - the ultimate judge of who is in the right, who is in the wrong. And yet, in the end, everyone's got theirs...


AN: Another little piece about a broken friendship... I have been re-reading many books this summer and stumbled upon BMT again. The same parts, the same things have irked me again. And this part especially. It comes in _The Novice,_ at the end of ch 33, in a talk A & L have about Akkarin letting Sonea face 20 novices (for her own good of course) and Dannyl and his adventures in Elyne. In the end, Lorlen asks whether Akkarin would warn Dannyl of the dangers of what we already know was the Chamber of Ultimate Punishment - of which, apparently, all Higher Magicians should be aware. And his dear friend is thinking him bold for merely asking questions! I couldn't stand his attitude and decided he should suffer a bit in atonement... Since we don't get his POV it seems to me he just doesn't suffer enough for all the pain he's causing to others. And, let me tell you, tormenting him felt good ;)

The characters, the story and everything else really comes from T. Canavan's books. The part in bold is taken straight from chapter 33 of _The Novice_ to set the scene.

 ** _Akkarin turned and smiled. „You are full of questions tonight. I wonder if there is something in the spring water lately. Everyone seems to have grown so bold." He turned away and refiled his glass, and another. "That is all I can tell you, for now. If I was free to tell you what I know, I would."_**

 ** _He crossed the room and handed Lorlen a glass. "For now, you'll just have to trust me"._**

Lorlen didn't answer straight away. He weighed his words, wondering if what he was about to say would sound too confrontational.

"Trust you? Well, then you'll have to forgive my boldness again, but trust is not something to be given at will, it has to be earned." He finally said, shaking his head and putting the offered glass on the low table before him. "And what do I know of you – truly know of you – that could warrant trust?" He fixed his stare at Akkarin, trying to read something from his expression. "The novice I thought I knew turned out to be a different man…"

Akkarin swiveled the wine in his glass but said nothing. Lorlen sighed and turned away to gaze at the window. "It seems that I am just no good when it comes to judging people."

A moment of silence seemed to stretch as Lorlen reminisced on their times as novices. They seemed so far away and so surreal. "You know," Lorlen finally started again, "when you won that bout for the position of High Lord, I was actually happy for you. Astonished, mind you – I remembered from our sparing times that our limits were similar, and suddenly you defeated twenty magicians! But still, I was proud of you. To achieve so much at such a young age! I didn't question it then. I had no reason not to trust you." He shook his head again and kept silent for a while.

"But you were never worthy of that title, were you? It was not _your_ power that made you win, you took it from other people" Lorlen began again, looking at Akkarin and not even trying to hide the disdain from his voice. "All of it was trickery. And it was that dark power that convinced everyone to choose you. Without such an enormous feat, they would have questioned your age, your experience…". Akkarin didn't meet his gaze. He looked at his wineglass, his face pensive.

"But of course, you needed that position" Lorlen gave a short, bitter laugh. "Living in the Magician's Quarters would be so inconvenient for you secret practices. That is the truth – you never wanted to become the High Lord to lead the Guild, you wanted it out of self-interest. To hide whatever evils you were committing. That dark, frightening aura you built around yourself that makes people think twice before approaching you with any matter…". Lorlen let his head drop, fixing his eyes on his own hands, resting on his knees. "I thought naively that you needed that to look older, more respectable. But that was real. The aura of a person who has dark secrets to hide" he finished, looking Akkarin straight in the face. A dangerous gleam flickered in the eyes of the High Lord as he returned the stare. Lorlen looked away, unable to challenge that gaze. _What am I doing?_ a voice deep in his mind tried to come to the surface. _Angering him will not only endanger myself but also Sonea and Rothen._ But he was too far gone, it seemed that his frustrations have overflown and there was no way to stop them spilling out of his mouth.

"And then you suggested me for Lord Perren Assistant. You knew he'd retire soon…" Lorlen's gaze wandered around the room as his thoughts focused on the past. "It was such a nice surprise. After all those years after your return when you were so distant, I thought we finally might get back to our previous ways. I foolishly imagined that together we might do so much good for the Guild! Working as one…". Lorlen's lips twisted in a crooked smile. "But that wasn't the goal, was it? In truth, you simply wanted an Administrator that would be pliable. That would give you the benefit of the doubt, and whom you could twist and mold as you pleased. A convenient tool to ensure your secret remained hidden." He let his gaze seek Akkarin's face for a moment. "The one thing I haven't figured out is whether all the rivalry when we were novices had already been a part of your grand plan? Where you shaping me to your will even then? Just as you are now doing it to Sonea, letting her face twenty novices at once?" He shivered thinking of the girl and the fate her guardian might have in stock for her. Then he cast his eyes down and looked at the ring on his finger, the red gem reflecting the gentle flickers of Akkarin's light globe. "And now your tool has become perfect, giving you an additional pair of eyes and ears. Truly, I'm your puppet on a string".

"Don't think so lowly of yourself, my friend" Akkarin's soft voice cut unexpectedly into Lorlen's thoughts, giving him a start. Yet, his anger rose again.

"How can you call me that?" he asked bitterly. "In the presence of others, I understand that you need to maintain the pretense… But between the two of us?" He turned to face Akkarin, not even trying to hide the painful grimace that twisted his features. "This friendliness, this relaxed air you are putting on… Whom are you trying to fool? Me? Or maybe yourself?"

"Be careful there, Lorlen." The High Lord's voice turned cold. "You're stretching my patience thin".

Lorlen turned away, finally realizing his audacity. Why did he even start venting his grievances? It could only lead to a confrontation that he was not ready to face. And his complaints would fall on deaf ears anyway. He took a deep breath and with effort kept his voice calm. "Of course, High Lord, I apologize. May I excuse myself now? I am sure there are plenty of those who would like to meet me in the Night Room by now".

xxx

Akkarin only nodded in response, not trusting his voice. He watched his friend's back as Lorlen retreated through the corridor and willed the door to open before he even reached it. He waited until he heard the door close and only then let his head drop. He buried his face in his palms and sighed deeply. If Lorlen knew how much effort those short meetings cost him! Relaxed air? Every minute of their talk felt like torture. He knew he should refrain from listening to Lorlen's thoughts through the ring, but he just couldn't help it. It was like worrying at a broken lip – he knew he should stop, that it will only cause him pain, but he simply couldn't. But today it seemed he didn't even have to resort to thought reading… Lorlen made hardly any effort to hide his feelings.

" _You were never worthy of that title"_ he could still hear the disdain in Lorlen's voice echoing in his ears. The disgust that filled Lorlen's thoughts was all the stronger now that he felt he had been fooled, alongside so many others… More even than the others as not only his mind fell for the trick but also his heart. He was right, of course. Not that it changed anything in their situation right now, there was no other way than to plough ahead. But Akkarin knew – had known even then – that he should not have been chosen for the position of High Lord. Him – a slave whose mind had been read every day and whose power had been sucked out every morning. A slave who unwittingly revealed all the Guild's weaknesses. A slave who resorted to learn the forbidden art, to commit the worst possible sin to save his pitiful life. A shiver run down his spine as unwanted memories sprang back. He didn't think himself worthy of survival if so many people better than him, so many beautiful souls fell to black magicians. The pain of losing _her_ still felt real. And yet, here he was, still alive and still trying in vain to forget. Forget whom he had been and whom he had turned into in order to survive.

He raised his eyes to look through his fingers. Lorlen's wine glass still stood untouched on the dining table. He reached with his hand and traced its edge. What would Lorlen think of him if he knew the truth? Would he be even more disgusted? Akkarin sighed and picked up the glass. He drowned its contents in a single swish, wishing the thick, sweet liquid could erase the bitterness he felt. He thought back to his early days as the leader of the Guild.

Of course he was content with the privacy, for more reasons than one. He could hunt whatever scum the Ichani sent to confirm the Guild's weakness… And yet he still pondered whether that was the best way. _Oh Lorlen, if I had half the civic courage you have I might have revealed everything then…_ He smiled bitterly and put the empty glass on the table. Would that have been the better option? Would anyone believe him without a truth-read – a youth who had lost his way? Would they prepare themselves and face the slaves that the Ichani sent? Or would they execute him instantly and render the whole Guild, the whole country – all Allied Lands truly – defenseless? He would never know and it was way too late to change anything. The only thing he could do to repair his mistakes, to atone for what he had done was to fight with all he had against the invaders.

He wished he could tell Lorlen the truth, to confide in him as he had done when they were young, innocent and carefree. But he has seen enough of Lorlen's thoughts to know that was not possible. The knowledge of his practices has changed how Lorlen regarded Akkarin – and his own self. He didn't trust Akkarin and he didn't trust himself to judge what Akkarin could do. There was no way he would have kept the secret to himself if only for the reason that he had lost faith in his own abilities to cope with the problem. Akkarin shook his head. No, that was not the way. He would have to suffer knowing how his friend regarded him, how his thoughts were filled with outright hate sometimes. If that could be his atonement for what he has committed – to Lorlen and others – then so be it. If only…

He could accept his own torment that came from Lorlen mistrusting him, from Lorlen questioning his motives, even those so far back in time. But he didn't expect what this would do to his friend. Lorlen was suffering, just as he was. He was filled with guilt for what he thought was not protecting Sonea – and the whole Guild – sufficiently. He felt helpless when faced with the murders in Immardin and Akkarin's supposed role in them. And now it seemed he also felt that all his work and achievements were all thanks to Akkarin's doings. If Lorlen harbored negative feelings towards Akkarin, that would be bearable. But this self-loathing…? And yet… The pain that was so clear in Lorlen's voice and thoughts when he objected to being called a friend…

Akkarin buried his face in his hands again. _Argh… I'm such a hypocrite!_ he half laughed, half choked through his fingers. He was actually glad for that pain. It meant Lorlen still cared, still _wanted_ to be a friend, even if his faith in Akkarin was wavering. Akkarin raised his head and stared aimlessly at the dark corridor that led his friend out of his home. _How did we ever end up like this…? Is there a way out for us?_


End file.
